


These Violent Delights

by DarlingNikki



Category: Alex Rider (TV 2020), Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Alex Rider has PTSD, Gen, Mission Fic, second meetings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:21:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27638140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarlingNikki/pseuds/DarlingNikki
Summary: Alex sees a figure he thinks looks familiar out of his window and chases after without a second thought prompting a second meeting with a mysterious man that looks at Alex and sees someone he recognizes.Then Alex's life continues, but he still can't get that man out of his mind.  He's going to figure it out eventually, come hell or high water.
Relationships: Yassen Gregorovich & Alex Rider
Comments: 24
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, ya'll it's been a while! I've been a longtime fan of the Alex Rider series, and was seriously pumped to see the new TV show, and on my second rewatch I got inspired to dabble in this fandom since I'm a lot more confident of a writer than when I first found this fandom way back in the early 2000s. This piece is mostly gen, could be preslash if you have your slash goggles on, if I continued it it would probably go on to become Yassen/Alex slash as I love mature themes and power imbalances. I'll admit while I know the basics of the books it's been a while since I last read them, and I definitely am behind and haven't read the later books in the series either. I just decided I really wanted to do a variation on this iconic conversation between Alex and Yassen to stretch my writing muscles some.
> 
> As always, no beta I die like a man, completely halfassed and unprepared.

Alex hadn’t really known what he was getting into when all this got started. He just knew that he had been being lied to about the cause of Ian’s death. Ian had never driven fast or broken traffic laws and Alex knew it, but Alex had just known comfortable lies then. Alex is pretty sure that he doesn’t know anything now either. He’s back at his home, in his room staring out the window at the street in Chelsea, but nothing feels quite as comfortable as it did before Ian’s death.

His uncle had not been the boring banker he pretended to be and looking back with hindsight as his guide Alex knew that it had been a rather thin lie in many ways. The endless stream of tutors and classes teaching Alex multiple languages, fighting styles, the extreme sports. What kind of normal banker knows parkour, and thinks it’s appropriate to teach a ten year old? What Ian had taught him had saved Alex’s life in an impossible scenario at Point Blanc, but also what Ian had taught him is why MI6 thought him perfect for the role in the first place. Alex had been groomed his entire life to work in intelligence; his hopes and dreams be damned. If MI6 will stoop to the lows they’ve already sunk to, interrogation under an SAS team, then sending him in alone to Point Blanc knowing that it had already gotten his uncle killed. Safe because he fit in, what a load of fucking bollocks that had been in the end too. But Alex had really been planning to call them the next morning, but he’d never even gotten the chance before they slipped the leash around his neck.

It chafes.

There’s not really a leash, of course. It’s just love and family turned into chains to hold Alex right where Blunt wants him to be. Alex knows this, but he doesn’t know how to survive on his own yet either. He’s only sixteen, and had just started year eleven, he’s not even gotten his GCSEs yet. He’s been told by MI6’s front that his funds from his uncle are tied up in a trust. His bills are paid automatically, the townhouse is technically paid off, but Alex has no way to touch anything left by Ian until he’s twenty one, and that’s a long way off under someone else’s thumb. Honestly with the kind of care that MI6 has shown, well, Alex isn’t sure if he will make it to even take his tests at the end of the year.

Alex taps his fingers on his windowsill as he idly scans the people walking by on the street below. He wonders if any of them are agents sent to keep an eye on him. It’s possible. That’s the world Alex is now being dragged into. No, Alex pauses tapping thinking about how that’s the world he’s always lived in.

Alex runs his fingers through his hair still not quite used to the douche bag fringe he’d gotten to fit in at Point Blanc. Turning, twisting, tumbling, Alex allows his thoughts to run through him and away, it doesn’t really matter right now. There is nothing Alex can do to change the past and the job he’s done for MI6, and Alex isn’t sure that there’s anything he can do to change it in the future. Maybe when he’s a legal adult, there won’t be strings that MI6 can use to jerk him around, but Alex is just sixteen. Alex’s eyes catch on a figure walking by. A man in dark clothes with dark hair and a casual unhurried pace, he doesn’t pause or falter as he walks Alex’s window at all, but there is something about him just the same that seems familiar to Alex. He’s seen this man before, and before Alex even really thinks about it his body is moving, ducking out his room and down the stairs to burst out of his front door to see if he can catch up to the man. Alex pauses at his stoop and looks in the direction the man is heading, and then starts to trail behind him. Alex almost expects him to lead him to the Royal and General Bank and to give him a stern talking to, but the man does not. He never pauses or looks behind him, so Alex figures he never even realizes that he’s being followed.

Alex rounds a corner about thirty seconds behind his target, and finds himself grabbed and hauled into a small alley with a hand clamped around his mouth to stop him from screaming, and another hand like an iron band around his bicep easily pulling Alex along. The voice that speaks to Alex is far calmer than Alex would expect, there’s no rage or anger in it when it asks, “Now what do we have here?” The man doesn’t expect an answer, his hand is still covering Alex’s mouth after all, and he continues, “If you draw attention, I will snap your neck.” His grip tightens and Alex knows there will be bruises tomorrow. “Do you understand?”

Alex nods his head and then the hands loosen and spin him around to face the man. Alex recognizes him now. He’s that mystery man from Point Blanc. His face with that scar across his cheek is unmistakable. He’d looked at Alex so strangely, like he knew Alex, like he’d known that Friend was a lie when Alex had said that was his name. “Who are you?”

The man is still giving Alex that weird look, like he’s looking straight through him and seeing someone else. “Yassen.”

Alex frowns, “Why are you here? Are you another MI6 agent sent to keep tabs on me to make sure I’m not blabbing? If so, leave me alone, I don’t want to keep doing this for you.” Alex spits those words out losing his temper knowing he’s probably right and it is MI6 yanking him along to hone his skills or some other bullshit.

The man smiles at Alex seeming amused by the show of temper and bravado. “Little Alex, in so deep already, and doesn’t know anything. You weren’t warned about me?”

Alex clenches his jaw and glares as he spits out, “No. Should I have been?”

The man chuckles, “Maybe,” he reaches out and grasps Alex’s chin and looks deeply at the shape of Alex’s face. “I know who you are, Little Alex Rider, and I know you are a child still and have no place playing these adult games.” He pats Alex’s cheek, “These violent delights have violent ends.”

“You think I wanted to be at Point Blanc? You think I wanted to be shot at and attacked and have that crazy bitch Stellenboch try to kill me?” Alex huffs in disbelief. “I had no choice.” Alex looks angry as he thinks about it. “I won’t have a choice next time either.”

“You always have a choice, boy,” Yassen scoffs at him.

“Tell that to MI6,” Alex shrugs, “I’m pretty sure they’ll make it so my choices aren’t choices at all.”

Yassen sighs and looks into Alex’s eyes again, appearing as if he is weighing the sincerity of Alex’s statement. “Tell them no, and stick to it. Otherwise you might end up being a loose end in need of cutting off.” The man’s statement on the subject appears to be settled to him, he didn’t really listen when Alex tried to explain that there is no way out. Adults other than Jack and Ian never had taken Alex very seriously ever, and Alex is not quite sure why he expected this shady stranger to be any different, but for some reason he had.

But Yassen is no different, as far as Alex can tell. He’s just weird with how he watches Alex. It’s fine though, the show must go on, and the longer Alex stays in this alley with Yassen the more uneasy he becomes. Alex feels a prickle at the back of his neck, and he’s finding himself on autopilot as his mouth opens and starts saying the lies that he can tell that this man wants to hear from him. “Sure, you’re right. Running around stopping madmen from making cuckoo clones is way too dangerous for a British schoolboy. I will stay away from that for sure in the future. I don’t have a deathwish.” Alex is nodding and smiling and Yassen is still watching Alex’s face but Yassen’s expression is blank again.

“Remember, Little Alex, tell them to fuck off.” He pats Alex’s cheek again, then shoves Alex roughly back out of the alley to fall on his back on the sidewalk. More bruises to find later, and by the time Alex is back up, Yassen is gone and out of sight. 

Alex has lost him, and now Alex has even more questions and no more answers than he did before. Alex looks back at the alley in disgust at his own confusion and hesitance and walks back to his home. He doesn’t even know why that man was by his house. He doesn’t know anything more than a first name, and that is nothing. Alex doesn’t even know if it was a truth or a lie, and that man had known Alex’s real name for sure. Alex is pretty certain that Yassen knew it when he saw him at Point Blanc, but Alex doesn’t know why. 

Alex doesn’t know a lot of things. He doesn’t know why Yassen knows him. He doesn’t know who killed Ian. He doesn’t know when MI6 is going to come knocking again. All Alex knows for sure is all he can do for now is go day by day, and keep digging because one way or another, Alex is getting his answers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Return to normalcy? Is it even possible for Alex now? He doesn't think so.

Alex hasn’t been digging for anything lately, except for a sense of normalcy, finding little around him that helps him to stay grounded to the here and now. He’d shown up back at school looking more like he’d gone a few rounds with a prize fighter and lost, with a flimsy excuse saying his appendix had burst. He’s been back at school now for a few days now, and Alex could feel as the worried eyes began to slide away from watching him closely. Alex drifted along the peripherals now more than ever at school now. Aiysha had told her friends that Alex was a creep and possibly unhinged, and well, everyone loves a good rumor now don’t they? It was all over the school before Alex had even made it back.

It didn’t really bother Alex though. He has Jack. He has Tom. Alex is not completely alone. 

Not yet at least.

Alex feels as if there is a glass pane separating him from his classmates even when they’re all around him, loud and vibrant and still very very unaware of the world around them. Alex is still only sixteen, but suddenly he feels like he’s much older than those around him. The things they care about don’t seem so important anymore. Dating someone? Alex knows that they would only get dragged in like Aiysha did and maybe the next person wouldn’t be as lucky as she’d been. Alex can’t bring himself to drag anyone else into the mess his life was rapidly unraveling into. Alex had gone through life just like them, unaware, and by god, Alex wishes that he could go back to that.

He can’t though.

The teacher drones on, and in the past Alex would only care about the trouble falling asleep in class would get him into, but now Alex is worried that he will start screaming. That’s a nice new feature of Alex’s sleep cycle. He falls asleep when he finally can’t fight it off, and then he finds himself back at Point Blanc. He dreams of the bright lights blinding him, and the heaviness of his limbs locked by anesthesia. He dreams of a boy with a face like his reflected back through a sinister funhouse mirror leering as he plans to take Alex’s place and kill all those that would notice. All two of Alex’s precious people.

So Alex avoids sleeping when he can. Dozing during a movie with Tom or Jack is about the most restful sleep Alex manages lately, their presence keeping him grounded to the here and now, allowing sleep without nightmares. Alex wonders if Kyra and James and the rest of them feel as different as he does now. The voice of Alex’s teacher cuts into Alex’s thoughts, “Alex, can you come solve this equation?”

Alex smiles as he gets up, better to try to stay in his teacher’s good grace, “Sure, sir.” At least math is still easy to Alex, numbers make sense, follow a pattern and are easy to figure out, unlike people’s motivations. Solve for X. Alex goes through the motions, rearranging the figures and finding the answer and Mr. Smith is satisfied and Alex is once more allowed to go back to his desk and drift back away.

Alex has had a lot on his mind recently.

*

After school Alex splits away from Tom and heads in the direction of his house, before detouring to catch a bus heading to a commercial district. He’s curious. Alex can’t stop thinking about that man, Yassen. He feels like it’s vitally important that he knows more about him.

Alex is also probably certain his house is bugged now. They’d had the internet company show up unexpectedly to do some maintenance the other day while Alex was at school, Jack had mentioned it. So Alex took a bus after school, and he headed to an internet cafe and paid for thirty minutes worth of time.

Alex searched for “Yassen” first on Google. Naming websites mostly, saying the name was Russian in origin. Then Alex switches over to Interpol’s website, he starts with the Red Notices scrolling through the pictures until he sees it.

A picture of Yassen, smirking at what must have been a security camera somewhere, and not a particularly advanced one at that. The picture is blurry, out of focus and Alex’s eyes maybe would have slid right on by it, if it hadn’t been for the fact that his name was there too. There’s even a last name listed, “Gregorovich.” Alex clicks on the picture to see what additional information is listed, and of course it’s sparse because this is the information available for public consumption. He’s 5’ 10” in height, born in Russia, speaks at least ten languages known by Interpol, and is wanted for “Organization of activity of the terrorist organization and participation in activity of such organization. Participation in illegal armed formation.”

There’s nothing else to learn here, so Alex logs off and heads home for real this time.

Alex considers the possibility of bringing this up to MI6, and seeing if they’d be willing to tell him more. They probably wouldn’t but it’d be interesting to see what they say while trying to skirt around it. 

Alex also considers the possibility he will see Yassen again, no matter what. Why else would he have been near Alex’s house, if not for Alex? It’s obvious he knows who Alex is, although Alex himself has no clue as to why. Did Yassen know Ian? Alex’s thoughts linger on seeing Yassen again. Next time Alex would be more careful in his tail. Follow at a farther distance, not run out like a madman being chased by his demons. Alex is pretty sure the bursting out of his front door like that is what had given him away in the first place. He was careless and loud.

Alex has to remind himself to think next time before he acts.

*

Alex finds himself slipping quietly from his room down to the kitchen to put on a kettle at five am the next morning. Another nightmare had woken him up, thankfully leaving him just gasping for breath instead of screaming and waking Jack up too. So he’s alone with his thoughts, again.

He survived. Alex ruined all of their plans, and got out alive despite being shot at, beaten, and explosions happening in his direct vicinity, and none of those images linger in Alex’s dreams. It’s being helpless that bothers him. It was being restrained to a table and things barely being real that bothered Alex the most. 

Alex has been raised to take action. He sees it now. He wonders if the “thought games” that Ian had played with him as a child were quite so metaphorical, and honestly doubts it. It casts a pall on happy memories.

Alex shakes his head and prepares the tea, wrapping his hands around the warm mug to ground himself. He will feel better, he thinks, when the other shoe drops and MI6 reaches out again. Alex drinks his tea. The silence shatters when the phone rings.

Alex picks it up. “Alex,” Ms. Jones’s voice comes through the speakers, “We need to speak with you.”

The other shoe has now officially dropped, and Alex was right. Doubt and uncertainty are being swept away like smoke being pushed out by fresh air. “When?”

Ms. Jones sounds hesitant when she replies, “Nine AM at the bank, we will send a car for you.”

“I’ll see you there.” The line clicks, and Alex hears Jack coming down the stairs woken up by the call. “In here,” Alex calls to her, and Jack stumbles in looking barely awake. 

“What was that?”

Alex pulls out tea for Jack and gets her to sit with him. “It was MI6. They want to see me in a few hours.”

Jack’s face scrunches up in horror and fear, “No, Alex, I thought this was a one time thing.”

Alex sighs, once again feeling old, “They said it, but they lied.” He shakes his head, “I did too well. I didn’t lose my head. There’s plenty of places a teenager would be useful to them.”

“No, Alex,” Jack shakes her head, “tell them no. Don’t do it.”

“They already know all they have to do is threaten to send you away, Jack, and I can’t do this without you.” The hair on the back of Alex’s neck rises at the thought of being without Jack, left alone and at the mercy of an organization Alex was pretty sure had none to give in the first place. Too big an organization, too entrenched, what is one schoolboy’s life versus the lives of many? Alex can guess how MI6 would solve that equation, and nothing about it would work in Alex’s favor. “You know what they’ll do. Call the dogs.”

Jack cries as she reaches for Alex’s hand, not loudly, but tears stream down from her eyes. “I love you,” she intertwines their fingers, “We will get you out of this.” She grips his hand tighter like she can just hold him here and protect him from the world, if she can just hold on.

Alex doesn’t have a response to that. He just holds on to Jack, and watches the time on the clock tick past seconds slowly slipping away before his appointment to meet his fate.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex meets with MI6 again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for fitting in getting another chapter of this up! Even if it's damn near 3am for me now, thankfully for myself I work a night shift tomorrow, so I won't be wanting to die at work due to lack of sleep.

The car arrives promptly to whisk Alex away, a dark nondescript sedan, classy looking. The driver opens the backseat and Alex climbs in, no point in hesitation right now. He will deliver his protests in person to the people directly responsible, thank you. The drive is short, but still nerve wracking for Alex. He knows what’s coming. He knows, but it doesn’t matter. Alex is held over a barrel, he can’t actually say no. He knows it and they know he knows it.

Walking through the doors to Vauxhall Cross following the driver Alex wonders what people think when they see him here? Do they think he’s someone’s kid being escorted in to visit their parent at work? He’s obviously supposed to be in school right now, there’s no school tour going on. He wonders if they just slide on past like he’s just a part of the scenery because well he’s no one to most people here. When they reach the elevator the doors slide open, and Ms. Jones is waiting to take Alex the rest of the way.

“Follow me Alex, Mr. Blunt is very important and only has a short time down for this meeting.”

“Of course he does.” Alex rolls his eyes. They’re going to completely roll him over. They probably started this second mission in the works when Alex showed his skills on the first, evading the guards and going down the mountain in a damn near suicidal rush on an ironing board. Alex squares his shoulders as the elevator door opens and follows behind Ms. Jones, looking at the closed doors on the hallway as he walks by. Nothing to tell who’s offices these were, no names on the doors, only numbers and letters. At the end of the hall, there’s an office that looks like it’s bigger than the others on the floor, which is their destination. Must be Blunt’s office then.

Alex is proved correct in his guess that was when Ms. Jones stops and knocks briskly on the door before going ahead and pulling it open and turning to Alex to motion him through the doorway.

Mr. Blunt is waiting for him, sitting behind a desk with his spine straight and a cold calculating look in his eye. “Mr. Rider, your assistance was invaluable before and we’ve come across another job that would fit your profile perfectly. A local drug dealer, who seems to be getting access to quantities of drugs at prices that his competition is unable to match. We want to know how he’s getting them here. You won’t even have to leave London for this job.”

“I’m still a child, you can’t expect me to get involved in drugs.”

“You won’t be doing any drugs, just getting in as a runner, then taking a little look around and leaving behind some bugs for us. A couple of hours of a day, nothing more.”

Alex shakes his head, “I don’t want to do this.”

Mr. Blunt looks as if he’s disappointed in that response. “You know what’s on the line for you.” He leans back in his chair and looks down his nose at Alex, “You will be doing this. We’ve apprehended a newer runner today, who was a bit of a loner. You’re going to take his place before they notice and plant a few bugs then get out so we can fake your arrest to tie up any loose ends and remove your existence from the equation as far as they realize.”

Alex tries to protest again, but is cut off as he opens his mouth, “Ms. Jones will lead you to the Quartermaster to get you ready for your role. Like I’ve said, a couple of hours in and then out again.”

With that Mr. Blunt looks down at his paperwork, a clear dismissal for Alex and Ms. Jones. She gently puts her hand on Alex’s arm and leads the upset teen back out of the office and to the elevator. Alex shakes his head, “I don’t want to do this. I could die doing this.” 

Ms. Jones watches him with her lips pursed. “You could. I won’t sugar coat it.” She looks conflicted to Alex, “But that is the world you now live in.”

It makes Alex reel and feel sick to his stomach. This is the world he lives in. This is the world he’s always lived in the shadows of. They expect him to sink or swim. Alex wonders if he can learn to swim so well that they will regret ever pulling him into this.

*

Alex is herded to Smithers domain, where Alex’s eyes trail over piles of computer parts and other electronic components fascinated by the quantity and the cutting edge technology on display in such casual disarray. He catalogs the items he sees as Smithers begins to explain who they will be sending Alex in as. A low level runner nicknamed Skoda, fairly successful in his territory, a loner who mostly kept to himself and got his job done. He’d slipped up though and gotten picked up earlier on his own breaking into a closed chippie to steal the register. Smithers had pointed Alex towards a bathroom and a pile of clothes waiting for Alex. They mostly fit him, and smelled of stale sweat and laundry left too long in the wash before they’d dried. Alex checked the pockets and found a wallet with some pounds shoved in it, and an ID with a name he didn’t recognize, but quickly memorized, must have been Skoda’s real name. These might have even been Skoda’s actual clothes taken off his back when he was booked.

Alex walks back out into into the main room, meeting his eyes “Anything else, or just a gross wardrobe change?” Alex wrinkles his nose, offended at the smell of the clothing.

The answer to that is the bugs for Alex to plant.

Smithers sits Alex down at a table and uses tweezers to apply small clear stickers to the ends of Alex’s fingertips right against the edge of Alex’s nails, until Alex has five resting on his left hand. “These are the smallest IMSI-catchers in the world Alex.” Smithers seems quite pleased by the devices as he carefully places them one by one on Alex’s fingers. “They’ll pretend to be a normal base station of the mobile network so we are set up perfectly for a man in the middle attack to intercept any calls made near them. They’ll be particularly useful if you can get them on cars, and several in the house, sadly the size means their range is rather short, if we want them to be powered for a useful length of time. But they’re also unnoticeable once applied and they’ll stick for long enough for our purposes, probably long after it’s stopped helping us. Just press your finger against the surface you want to place it on for ten seconds to transfer it.”

“Sounds easy enough, and a little like Star Trek to me, but okay.” Alex nods, that sounds easy enough to him, and honestly, pretty brill as far as what the limits of technology can achieve. Alex always had enjoyed his science and math classes the most, as far as enjoying schooling can go. Getting to see behind the curtain like this, almost feels like a treat, if Alex doesn’t think about the fact that this is the beginning of him risking his life again unwillingly for Queen and Country, like Alex cares about that.

Smithers gets up, but tells Alex to wait there. He moves to a desk and grabs another small item and walks back over to Alex. “Hold still for a second.” He reaches towards the side of Alex’s head with the item, messes with Alex’s ear, then he feels a painful sting. Alex jerks and reaches up as Smithers pulls away to feel that there’s now a small earring in his ear. “Just a small tracker, to keep an eye on your location. If you take it out a signal will go out, so we can pull you out if you need it. We want to keep you safe.” Smithers nods to himself. He looks sincere. 

But Alex thinks that he’s deluding himself, because if he really wanted to keep Alex safe, he wouldn’t be complicit in sending Alex into yet another dangerous situation.

Alex paid enough attention in history class to know that “just following orders” is the yellow brick road to Hell.

“Is that it?” Smithers looks thoughtful for a second, “Sadly yes, while I could think of some things to make for you in the future, I didn’t have enough time to prepare more. Those bugs are advanced, you know. They took a lot of time.”

Priorities, priorities echoes in Alex’s head. “Got some paperclips I could borrow?”

Smithers looks at Alex in surprise and then awe after a second at Alex’s earnest question. He watches as Alex pulls several of the smallest ones out and begins planting them on his clothing. One gets tucked onto the edge of his shirt on his collar, another disappears when Alex reaches behind himself and fiddles with his waistband for a second, and a third is placed at Alex’s ankle threaded through the sock so it’s mostly hidden. It’s really a good idea, and it’s pretty innocuous and easily missable to cursitory searches. Plus the backups, Smithers wonders if Alex would ever know to play up the defeat when the first is found that way they never think to check for more. Options for Alex.

Smithers nods as he watches, “Smart boy you are.” He nods, “I’ll think of something if they send you out again.”

Alex still thinks that Smithers is deluding himself, but he holds his tongue for now.

Alex is soon herded out of MI6, and taken to a tube station. They tell him which stop to get off at, and where to go from there. He’s left to make his way there alone from there. 

MI6 will know where he is.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex investigates some drug dealers for MI6.  
> His luck is about the same as it usually is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still working away on this one too. Here's the next chapter y'all, some solid mission fic, with a small scale mission sans Yassen again. But he should be showing back up again soon in future chapters, which is something I'm looking forward to!

Alex looks around the Tube station blankly for a second before breathing deep and walking with purpose following the directions he had been given. His feet are at least still comfortable in his own trainers. There’d been no shoes to match the rest of this fit, minging and awfully cliche as it was. A tacky tracksuit, the uniform of Chavs and criminals, that Alex himself never would have picked out in a million years. As Alex walked he thought about the type of person that would wear this tracksuit, and began to subtly shift how he walked, trying to channel the quiet bravado of an older teen, who was supposedly quiet, but a successful drug runner for one of the biggest up and comers in the market that London had ever seen. 

Confidence was key. Walk like you have a purpose and know where you’re going, and people are unlikely to stop you.

Alex’s first stop was the parking garage. It was easy enough to drop a bug in the back of the both of the nondescript lorries stored there. He also slipped one into the nicest car of the five parked in the basement level lot, now he had two to place inside the building, a stocky factory set in an area filled with blocky factories sitting in rows next to each other. Alex figures he’ll drift towards where people seemed to congregate and leave one there, probably a break room type area. 

He’s reassured when he walks up to the ground floor without any problems. No one cried alarm, and Alex had been surprised, but he did look similar enough to Skoda to pass. He probably couldn’t pass himself off if anyone remembered Skoda’s voice and inflection, but that just meant that Alex really did need to get in and out. Drop off the bugs then bug out himself. Avoid talking if he can, and use one or two word replies if he absolutely can’t avoid it.

Alex nods and slips into a large room with chairs and couches. People are scattered about some playing on their phones, others eating. It actually looks remarkably like what’s probably happening behind the doors of the more legitimate businesses surrounding them, even if on the main floor the workers are carefully dividing different substances, powders and pills and a vast array of items that Alex can’t identify, but clearly seem to be other drugs.

Alex had seen signs that most of the people working under this roof were probably under some form of duress, economic or otherwise. There’s pallets piled along the wall, and Alex can hear a distinct mix of broken pieces of several different languages being used to communicate between the workers who all look tired. Labour trafficking probably, a mix of refugees desperate to get away from the wars being fought in their home countries and other people just desperate to escape the crushing weight of absolute poverty. 

They’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, just like Alex himself.

Hopefully what Alex is doing leads to better outcomes for these people. Help to stay legally, and get their lives together. Alex can only hope. He walks over to the kettle on a table by the wall and fixes a small cup of tea. He sips it while pretending to be absorbed in his mobile, but really looking out towards the work floor, observing the activity happening.

Different people walk up and down the narrow aisles made between tightly packed narrow tables spanning the width of the wide open floor plan of most of the building. At each of the tables around 10 people sit, facing one direction, all hunched over their work stations intently measuring and counting. Hard faced men walk up and down the aisles watching the workers work, a visible threat, making sure they don’t steal or maybe even try to leave, since those sleeping bags are stored on the main floor, easily accessible and most likely often used. On the opposite wall Alex sees a glass window set up on the first story of the building. These scum hadn’t built the building after all, they’d only moved in, so like a lot of factories, the biggest office, the boss’s office, had the best view of the building. Alex bet the most important person here probably worked in that office, watching over all of the workers in their little fiefdom, soldiers and serf alike.

Alex’s expression never changes, and he’s still idly scrolling on his phone, but he’s almost finished his tea. Alex walks to the trash and tosses his paper cup before he walks out of the breakroom and heads towards the office’s wall, where a different set of stairs leads up and to what would be the best place to put his final little gift from MI6. Alex knows they want the big dirt, not much caring about the boring day to day detail of what consists of business as usual for career criminals, even ones are seemingly despicable to Alex as these people are. 

What Alex needs is to get into that office, which appears currently to be empty of anyone overseeing the hive of activity happening below.

That office is the only place MI6 will be satisfied with Alex placing the final bug. Alan Blunt seems to be an exacting man, and Alex is not sure what form MI6 showing displeasure in his work could take. Would they pull him out of Brooklands? Set him up, so that there’s less eyes watching, so they can use Alex until they can’t anymore. Alex shakes his head, he won’t let that happen to him.

He heads up the stairs, still following the basic rule of social engineering, look busy and walk like you know where you’re going. Alex comes out on the second floor, seeing several smaller offices and a set of double doors that must lead to the biggest office, the one he’s looking for. Alex quickly ducks inside, hoping it’s still clear.

It is.

Alex moves to the desk and quickly leaves his last gift from MI6, hidden on the underside of one of the drawers on the desk, which seems to be an unlikely place for it to be found thanks to Smithers obvious skill in making discrete devices. Alex breaths a sigh of relief, the hardest part of the mission is now done. All he really needs to do now is get out of this room, then get back on the streets, so he can call for his extraction.

Alex is a little too curious though. He’s here after all. Why not take a little look around through the papers on the desk? Alex quickly flips through them, they mostly seem to be sums of money listed, next to inventories of the products these criminals deal in. Alex stops though, seeing a large payment going out to something labelled as SCORPIA. Alex doesn’t recognize the name, but these papers show millions of dollars being paid to them, for something.

It can’t be anything good. Alex rapidly scans the rest of the paperwork, looking for anything else interesting, but just more sums and figures, and maybe if Alex had more knowledge he could make heads or tails of it, but he cannot. Alex sits the papers down, making sure to leave them back in their original position, so when the office is back to being reoccupied his snooping will hopefully go unnoticed.

As Alex is making his way to the door to leave, it slams open, and a man steps in. Thin and tall, this man’s aura oozes a bad feeling. 

“What do we have here?”

“I got lost, searching for the loo.”    
“Did you now?” The man walks up to Alex, looking him up and down, “Skoda, right?” 

“Yeah.”

“Did you think we wouldn’t notice you trying to steal info, so you could set out on your own?” The man looks disappointed, “Your friend sold you out. We know you want to break off and sell for yourself.”

Alex shakes his head; deny everything seems to be the only response he can give to that. “No, I would never, bruv.” 

The man tsks at Alex, “Liar.”

The man attacks. He punches Alex in the face and Alex is stunned long enough for him to score another hit to Alex’s chest, sending all the air in his lungs whooshing out in a gasp. Alex hits the floor and the man kicks him in the ribs as he falls, making Alex hit the ground in an ungainly sprawled out heap. More kicks, Alex can’t catch a breath. The man grabs Alex’s hair and drags him out of the main office and to one of the smaller offices. Alex is shoved roughly into the office, then the man handcuffs him to an office chair by one hand. “You will wait here. The bossman will want to see you.”

Then Alex is left alone.

Alex breaths through his nose, then gets to work. He wasn’t even searched, just roughed up and left handcuffed to a chair, like that could actually stop Alex.

Alex’s paperclips are all in easy reach since they only bothered to restrain one arm. Ian had first taught Alex how to pick cuffs when he was nine. These were a standard double lock cuff, child’s play. Alex folds his paperclip into a ninety degree angle, then slides it into the lock mechanism, pushing the dip into the double lock first, rotating until he hears the faint click of it disengaging. Now for the single lock, Alex moves the paperclip into its slot, once again rotating slightly, like he’s using a key, until with another click the bar of the cuffs, leaves them sliding open freeing Alex’s trapped wrist. 

Alex rubs at his wrist to get some circulation going to it, since the man had put it on Alex tightly enough that his circulation had been bad, then looks around the room. No convenient weapons left around, but there is a window. Alex looks out, sees that while there is a second level to this building that the first is larger and juts out more, leaving Alex a convenient mode of escape from this room and the building itself. 

Alex shimmys the window open, then climbs out.

The drop is a little higher than Alex is used to, but when he hits the ground he rolls with it and smoothly comes back to his feet.

Alex walks to the edge of the building, this drop a little higher than the one from the first story window to the ground floor roof. He walks around the roof, surprised to not find anyone guarding up here, since he’d think it’d be a prime spot to place security, since you can’t have too much visible security on the ground level of a busy factory in London, but little blessings left by dumb criminals is not something that Alex will find it in his self to question, not when it ends up working out in his favor. There’s even a ladder on the side of the building, so that maintenance can access the HVAC systems on the roof, and that’s a clean line of escape for Alex.

He makes sure to make it several miles away before setting off the beacon in his earring. He sits down at a cafe with a cup of tea to wait.

It doesn’t take long. Only about fifteen minutes of waiting, then several Met Police cars pull up. They zoom in on Alex, already briefed on their target.

Alex doesn’t resist the arrest, knowing that this is his way out of the mission. After this, he can hopefully go home and spend some quality time with Jack. Alex thinks he was probably wrong about being okay with the other shoe dropping, he just wishes that he’d never been exposed to any of this. He shouldn’t be as good at any of this as he is now. It’s sick that he’s been trained so young, and it’s even sicker that he’s now working for MI6. They have no care for his well being, the only reason that Alex isn’t more seriously hurt is that he made his own way out. They’d even sent him in with a compromised cover, probably hadn’t done enough research to realize that the scumbag they’d sent Alex in as was staying true to his scumbag nature and working against his employers.

He’s led to the police car, and tucked into the back seat with his hands handcuffed again, this time properly, behind him, so that escape would be a much harder proposition.

Alex breaths slowly as the car pulls away from the cafe.

This is just another day in his life now.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex gets away scot-free exactly as MI6 planned. This really isn't in Alex's favor though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look more story & this story remains Gen currently, I'm so proud of my restraint.

They book him at the station, Alex wants to nod off honestly as now that he’s away and the adrenaline that had gotten him in and then out even with the complications begins to dissipate. They fill out forms, take his fingerprints, and take a quick photo, then Alex is led to an interrogation room to wait.

The officers gruffly state, “We’re going to be moving your cuffs to the front, then we’re leaving you in here to wait.” Before the officers move to put Alex’s hands in front of him, he snags the paperclip from his waistband hiding it between his fingers.

After they leave he opens the cuffs, and then he waits, glaring at the clock, watching as seconds turn into minutes, then minutes slip by. It’s not like he knows how long or how short they’ll make him wait.

Alex looks away from the clock staring instead at the glass of the obvious observation mirror in front of him. All Alex can think of when he stares at it is, a rare evening spent watching some police drama with Ian and Jack on the couch while Ian had talked about how to make a one way interrogation “mirror” fail. It wasn’t a mirror, it was a trick of a reflective coating on actual glass and use of the light in the observation room being kept much darker than the brightly lit room Alex occupied. If he’d needed a few seconds of action unobserved, Alex thinks that he would aim for the light, while alone, so he’d have at least twenty seconds before anyone came in to stop him.

Alex looks away from the mirror as the door opens.

The serious businesslike expression of Mr. Crawley greets Alex as the door is held open for him, before being shut behind him, leaving him and Alex alone in the room. Mr. Crawley does not look particularly startled to see that Alex isn’t in cuffs. Alex doesn’t know for sure if that’s because of MI6’s orders or some idea of the skills that Alex knows, the things he said to Smithers before being sent out.

“Can I go home now?” Alex stands.

“We need you to drop by the bank first, debrief, then yes, you can return home.”

“Fine, let’s go then.”

Mr. Crawley and Alex leave the Metropolitain’s offices. No one questions or stops them. They take a car back to MI6, Alex rests his face against the closed window as the busy scenery of London passes them by.

The walk into the bank is quiet, and once again Alex’s presence causes indifference to the agents going about their business.

Alex is led up what ominously feels like will become a well trod path, the same one he’d walked before up Blunt’s office.

The man himself along with Ms. Jones were waiting for him inside. 

“Your cover was bad, Skoda was betraying the gang.”

“You got the bugs placed, we’ve already begun receiving information from a couple of them, so the mission was completed. What was the problem?”

“You don’t think sending me in with a target on a back was a problem?”

“You proved adequate.”

“Adequate.” Alex scoffs at the faint praise. They damn him with their approval. Alex knows this small show is a mask hiding a much more complex balance behind cold grey eyes that view Alex as a piece of a chess game played with actual lives at stake.

Mr. Blunt does not waste time. It is a valuable commodity, that you cannot gain back once lost. “Alex, we’ve got something else you might want to look into, a person of interest that we want to get a closer look at.” A tablet is passed to Alex to look over.

Alex’s eyes scan over a picture of a plump man smiling at the camera jovially, his name and some information written underneath:

“Name: Herod Sayle

Age: 56 (B. 1964)

A Lebanese businessman and scientist, CEO of Sayle Enterprises, plans on donating state-of-the-art computers to all schools in the UK school system, a simply massive donation with estimates for the cost of the project in the hundreds of millions. He is known for his charity, and known by his associates as a good natured man according to their resources. Sayle attended Eton alongside the Prime Minister, then Cambridge, thanks to him saving the life of a wealthy pair of UK tourists while a child in his home country. He says that his unprecedented single donation to a school system is a gift of gratitude.”

“We have ensured that your previous cover identity, Alex Friend, has been announced as the winner of a contest to tour the manufacturing facility, and to be the first to experience the new system.”

“Why would I do this for you?” Alex continues, “If you’re sending me in to look, you are suspicious of the gift, why not send someone with more experience in?”

“You will do this because of this.” Mr. Blunt looks smug as Mr. Crawley steps forward to hand over the packet of files he’d taken with him from the car when they’d walked into MI6.

Alex thumbs through it, staring blankly at the booking forms and his picture, looking completely legitimate, probably ready to be completely legitimate at least as far as the police will know. Alex’s real name is filled in neatly, alongside the rest of Alex’s information. The charges listed included supply and production of Class B substances. Alex knew that could carry a sentence up to seven years. If he didn’t give in, Alex would likely be doing his A levels in prison. If they gave him the maximum sentence he would be twenty-three by the time he was released, twenty-three and on his own after all that time trapped.

Alex shudders at the thought of being truly trapped for such a long time.

Alex thinks these changes he’s noticing in himself would only become worse. Prison would breed a streak of paranoia and viciousness in himself, just so he could survive, more than likely.

What ruins would that leave his life in when it ended? Twenty-three with no qualifications and a record to boot.

“You're a cold bastard, Blunt.”

“I get the job done. You are dismissed, Rider, report to Smithers.” 

Blunts attention turns away from Alex, deliberately calculated to make Alex’s blood run hot and to show how little Blunt cared for Alex’s opinion.

“Fuck you.” Alex spins around with tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, through sheer will he holds them back, refusing to show weakness to the sharks as they circled.

His face is stony as Ms. Jones escorts him out.

He’s already noticed that they won’t let him go anywhere alone. If he asked for a bathroom break, would they follow?

Probably fifty/fifty odds on it.

*

Smithers domain remains the most personally interesting part of MI6’s domain for Alex’s eyes. Alex is once again led in, and Ms. Jones disappears to take care of other matters. Smithers seems happy to see Alex, “It’s not been too long, but I’ve put some thought into it and pulled you together some kit you may find of use.” Smithers seems very satisfied with his pronouncement. He motions for Alex to sit, and begins to putter around the room, pulling things from here and there before coming over to join Alex and show off the spoils.

A phone is pushed over to Alex while Smithers explains, “This has some homebrew apps of mine on it. The game ‘Bug Attack’ has a mode to scan for actual bugs. A secure messaging program is hidden from access by putting a code into the calculator, so you can send us reports with pictures. We can of course track it. Then finally it can be destroyed by tapping the power button twice, then holding it down for 5 seconds. It will be somewhat explosive, when it’s destroyed.” Smithers looks sad for a moment though, “Phones have gotten smaller over the years, it’s really made hiding stuff in them much harder than it used to be.”

Alex laughs at the unexpected humor of Smithers complaint. “I’m sure.”

“That’s not all though, I had a few other little odds and ends for you.” Smithers slides a tube of zit cream at Alex, “This stuff eats through most metals, and is completely harmless to human skin. A pea sized amount should open most locked doors, and it’s completely innocuous for a teenage boy to be carrying around in his pockets.”

Alex appraises the bottle, yeah, something like that could indeed come in handy in his future.

Smithers passes Alex a watch seeming to enjoy his game of show and tell, “It has a hidden retractable wire in the back, which is made of braided carbon nanotubes, so it’s extremely thin while remaining extremely strong. The wire can hold over five hundred kilograms of weight with no issue.”

Alex turns the watch over and feels along the side of it, finding a knob that a fingernail could flick to pull out the wire. Alex pops it open and pulls out a strand of glittering wire, extending it as far as his arm can reach.

“It’s six and a half meters long when fully extended.”

Alex nods and allows the wire to retract back inside. He goes ahead and puts the watch on his wrist.

“Is that everything?” Alex looks curiously at Smithers, who then looks somewhat embarrassed.

“I only had a few hours to get this ready, you know.” He looks crestfallen, “They told me after you left that there was somewhere else you were needed.”

Alex isn’t surprised by that, of course they’re not transparent with any of their employees. Alex is not special in that regard. “Any chance I could get a weapon? What if I have to defend myself?”

“No,” Smithers looks disturbed by the prospect, “Alex, you are too young for that. You’re just going to be looking around, maybe taking some pictures. You won’t need to fight.”

“I’m two for two for missions getting me attacked now.” Alex scowls, “I don’t want to die, and I certainly don’t want to die working illegally for MI6.”

Smithers tries for reassurance, “You won’t.”

Alex notices that Smithers doesn’t promise anything, despite trying to reassure him.

*

Alex gets sent back home after his meeting with MI6 for a brief reprieve between missions. Mr. Crawley drives them, and explains he will be back in five days to pick up Alex.

From there Alex will be taken to Gatwick Airport where he will catch a plane to Sayle’s factories in Port Tallon, for a three day weekend stay, ending with a flight back to London with Sayle for the unveiling ceremony for the Stormbreaker computers on Sunday.

Alex closes his eyes, left alone on his doorstep, steeling himself before he has to walk in and break the news to Jack.

It’s going to break her heart. Alex knows that she loves him, that she doesn’t want this for him, that she would do anything in her power to stop this. But Alex is pretty sure that her plans with the lawyers will get written off as the ramblings of a crazy American by social services, and she will be declared unfit to care for Alex. 

Check and mate. Plans within plans, and Alex can’t help but wonder how twisting his mind to understand their twisted reasoning will eventually leave him.

Alex walks in to find Jack already moving from the living room, where she must have been waiting for him to come in.

Alex rushes to meet her and crashes into her open arms, not wanting to talk for right now. There’s time to talk later. Right now, Alex would just like to forget for a while. He’d like to be held by the closest thing he’s got to an older sister, and just allow himself a moment to be scared. He’s got an invisible clock counting down in the back of his mind though, that he can’t stop thinking of.

A new mission for MI6, T-minus five days from now.

Alex pushes those thoughts away, and focuses on here and now instead.


End file.
